


Teacher and student

by MariaLujan



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Angst and Porn, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Honeymoon, Married Sex, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:17:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaLujan/pseuds/MariaLujan
Summary: One shots where Patrick is a good teacher for Shelagh.Most of them are M, so be careful!





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a week since Timothy awoke in the hospital. One week since the postponed wedding. Patrick's heart ached as he watched Shelagh, being happy with his son, playing and joking with him beside his hospital bed. Things should not have been like this, but they were, and he should not be selfish, his son was recovering incredibly fast, and soon there would be time to get married. However, he still felt bad. Shelagh left her life for him, and he could not even give her a decent wedding.  
For that reason, since a couple of days, he decided to try to spend time with her, give her the courtship she deserved and not the rush they seemed to live. After all, maybe postponing the wedding was a good thing, because they hardly knew each other and the time together they almost always spent with Timothy. Now, with more time and while he could and his patients allowed him, he wanted to give her every free moment he had, and also, a date every night: drink a coffee, go for a walk, or take her from the hospital to dinner somewhere away from the curious glances of Poplar, or a quiet chat and dinner in his flat. Hopefully they could dance or sing together, something he discovered that Shelagh enjoyed enormously.  
So while he watched how she taught Scottish humorous words to his son and Timothy laughed with a healthy guffaw, he mentally prepared what to do tonight. The best would be his flat, he was a bit tired, and she sure would be too, after spending the whole afternoon chatting with her son and some children of the same Timothy´s room who, of course, adored her.  
He left without saying anything, and neither she nor Timothy realized his absence. As the hospital was well located, finding good food was easy. When he had it, he came back and stood in front of his son's bed.  
"What is it that smells so good?" the boy asked.  
"Dinner for Shelagh and me.”  
"And why should I eat pumpkin?"  
"Patrick, don´t be cruel, invite him something” Shelagh laughed.  
"I'm sorry, young man, but the orders of your doctor and all the nurses are that you shouldn´t eat anything that is not made in this hospital. But tomorrow I´ll bring you chocolate, because I´m your doctor too. What do you think?”  
Timothy nodded grudgingly.  
“So, dinner at home?” said Shelagh as they went out. Patrick smiled, since a few days she started to say "home" and not "your home".  
"Unless you want to have dinner at the Ritz..."  
"How extravagant you are," she laughed, "I'd rather eat at home, I'm tired."  
He warmed up the meal and had dinner quietly, talking about Timothy's progress, the patients, the sisters. Patrick asked her about the Scottish words she taught Tim, taking it as an opportunity to learn more about her. He delighted to see her mischievous smile and learn more about her anecdotes and things when she was a child and teenager. Shelagh was young and beautiful and he could not imagine her even younger and more beautiful, but he was envious of those who knew her in that time. He felt inside the desire to someday see a little girl like her, running and doing her same mischiefs.  
“Are you listening to me?” she said, pulling him out of his thoughts.  
"Sorry, I was distracted" he immediately regretted to say that, because her happy look turned sad, "My love, forgive me, I wasn´t thinking of anything else while you were talking to me. I was thinking about you.”  
“Were you thinking about me?” she said in surprise.  
"Yes, I was thinking in I wish I knew you when you were a child.”  
“You wouldn´t have been interested in me. When I was a child, you were old enough.”  
“Sorry? Are you mentioning that I'm an old man?” he simulated to be offended.  
She laughed and then took a sip of water without leaving her mischievous gaze.  
"I'm just telling the truth” she replied with malice. He could not help smile like a fool but he was marveled again, because in public Shelagh was more than shy, she was not like he knew her, when she was Sister Bernadette, so independent and even severe, but with her fun touches. But, when she was so relaxed with him, she was much more than all that. She was an incredible woman. He took her hand and kissed it. She calmed her giggle and looked at him sharply. Then she cleared her throat.  
“I´m going to clean the table and wash all this” she stood up.  
"Leave it, I will. Why don´t you look for a record? I want to dance. If you want, of course.”  
“Patrick, I always want.”  
Something in that sentence, or in her tone of voice, or in her look that grew darker, made him restless. Once more she was surprising him with something different, once more he was discovering something he did not know she had inside. He lifted the dishes quickly as she searched through the records and commented him something about Trixie and a new record store in the West End with the latest music and a great price.  
He did not stack the dishes or wash them, he needed to get back to her. He took her by the waist and she did a little cry. She turned and looked at him with a smile. She seemed innocent again and she blushed and looked down when he took her to start dancing. He did not say anything, just looked at her, while she looked at her feet, claiming she did not want to step on him. He insisted on looking at her until she lifted her head. Shelagh was still blushing, but he lowered his head to her lips. It was just a touch, something he knew she liked. She pressed herself against his body when he separated his mouth from her. He gave her another small kiss, and he felt her smile. Then another more, and then he took her lip between his own. He felt her hands tightening on his shoulders and then one of them running into his hair as he repeated the same kiss again. Her breathing changed, he could feel it. Again he kissed her and heard a slight gasp. She pulled away and looked into his eyes. She was blushing but her gaze was not innocent.  
“I love you” she sighed. And he was paralyzed. Until that day she had not said it, it was not necessary to say that because they had it written on their faces every time they looked at each other. And now she had just told him, and in a way he felt he would drive him crazy. It had been a sigh, a nearly moan that turned into a kiss that she gave him and he took care of deepen. He tightened his grip on her waist when he felt her legs falter as he ran his tongue over the seam of her lips. Her mouth opened for him and his other hand made the way to her well-combed hair and he felt some locks loose. He loved her hair down and the silk sensation between his fingers made him feel more lost. The pleasure of her hair between his fingers combined with the pleasure of feeling Shelagh's hand in his own hair, and her hand climbing between his vest and his shirt, burning his back. He demanded more with the kiss, and she answered him firmly, pressing more against his body and her taste and attitude began to make him delirious. It was very short time that he had taught Shelagh how to kiss, and she was embarrassed and very shy at first, but now, like everything else tonight, she was surprising him. Shelagh was his best student and he was delighted to be his teacher. Slowly, he moved his hand from her waist to her belly and she let out a moan and immediately separated. She looked at him almost frightened, her face and lips red.  
“I´m sorry” Patrick said not knowing why he was apologizing and trying to guess what he did wrong.  
“Don´t, I´m sorry” she looked at the floor again and lowered her hand from his head and the hand on his back quickly left its place.  
He dropped his hand on her waist, and only held one on her cheek. He cursed, he sure did something wrong, he crossed the line making her feel uncomfortable. He was blinded with the new Shelagh he discovered every day, forgetting who she was just a few weeks ago. He felt like a primitive.  
“Shelagh, I´m sorry. I made you uncomfortable.”  
“Is not that” she shook her head, but still looking at the floor.  
“So what is it?” he stroked her cheek, still thinking he might frighten her more.  
“I´m stupid” she said it so low that he thought she said anything.  
"Dear, did you say you're stupid? Why?”  
She took a deep breath, and he knew that talking required a lot of courage for her. Patrick wondered when he would banish her fears, he did not want her to suffer, let alone with him. She saw as she stepped on the tip of her shoe with the other's heel, as she was a little girl who feels guilty.  
"I...I don´t know what happened to me. I wanted to continue this but I was scared and I don´t know why.”  
"Did you like this?"  
She nodded several times.  
“I like to be with you. But...I think I'm scared that I like it. I told you, I'm stupid, what I say doesn´t make sense.”  
He heard a sob and he was alarmed, so he took her head in his hands and looked at her. Her eyes were wet.  
“My love, don’t cry.”  
"You deserve a real woman, not me" she looked anywhere but him, "I'm not a girl, but still I know nothing and you should teach me everything, it seems that I am...I don´t know…your daughter. And I'm afraid because I´m not a woman enough for you.”  
He could not believe what he heard. Shelagh, the woman of his dreams, she was here, saying that he deserved someone else and that she was not a woman. For Christ´s sake, she was the perfect woman for him. He was despaired, he could not think of anything to tell her to calm her down and take her fears. So he took her by the shoulders and led her to the sofa. When they sat down, he took her hands.  
“Shelagh, look at me” she was reticent, looked at him barely for half a second, then looked away. He followed her with his head, intercepting her eyes to where she wanted to see, until she surrendered with a smile “Shelagh, listen to me. You are the woman of my dreams. You are a woman, I don´t want you to say that you aren´t because you are more woman than anyone I know. You are brave, and strong, and full of love for the whole world. That makes you the most beautiful woman in my eyes, and in the eyes of everyone.”  
She lowered her head again. He took her chin to force her to look at him again.  
“I don´t mind teaching you everything, on the contrary, I'm delighted and I want you to tell me continually how you feel, if you feel uncomfortable, if you want to learn something or not, if one day you don´t want me close to you...whatever. I want you to tell me, because you're not learning alone, I'm learning too, about you. We´re getting married, I want you to trust me.”  
"Yes, we´re getting married, and I don´t know anything, Patrick” now she looked into his eyes, with a worried look, "I don´t know anything about... you know what. And any younger girl than me knows everything. I feel like…”  
“How? Like a nun?”  
She could not help but laugh at his question and at his funny look.  
"You're immature" she laughed.  
He laughed too, feeling relieved to see her smile again. Then he got serious, stroking her cheek.  
“Shelagh, is logic you don´t know, so what? What does it matter if others know it and you don´t? Stop worrying about that. And never say again that you´re stupid. Nothing further from you than that, do you understand?”  
“Yes” she turned to look at him, smiling.  
"Now tell me, do you feel bad because you like it?"  
“Yes. I guess it's because I'm not used to it” she looked down and played with her ring, something Patrick already recognized as a gesture of nervousness.  
He looked at her closely, so long that she lifted her eyes and raised her eyebrows questioning his silence.  
"I think I know why you got scared."  
She blushed and closed her eyes, shaking her head.  
“I should have told you.”  
"I hope you'll tell me next time. I was kissing you and I moved my hand and you moaned.”  
She blushed furiously and lowered her eyes again.  
"I was scared when I heard myself do that. I didn´t recognize myself.”  
He saw her biting her bottom lip in anguish and took her chin again.  
“Dear, if you did it was because you liked it, there is no harm. Don´t think badly about yourself. You liked it, that's all. And I'm sorry if I pushed you, or if I made you feel uncomfortable.”  
"I'm always comfortable when I'm with you" she made a big smile, "It's all so strange...but I want to get used to everything, I want you to show me and I want to tell you. I want to feel no guilt. This is taking time, I think.”  
"I'm not in a hurry, my love” he smiled. He could not help it, so he planted a small kiss at the corner of her mouth. She smiled and cupped his face in both hands and planted a proper kiss on his mouth, “Well, well, Miss Mannion, I'm learning that you have sudden mood swings.”  
She giggled and kissed him again, and moved quickly away. He kissed her back and they spent a few minutes stealing and returning quick kisses as if they were competing for who gave more. Patrick was delighted with her laughter again, until he realized something: they were playing. They never played anything, and now they were here, on the couch, playing between kisses and giggles as if they were school children.  
“I love you” he said, another first time of words, and she smiled with her smile and with her eyes. She ran her hand down his cheek and stroked his hair that fell on his forehead, which seemed to enchant her. Then she got close to him and gave him a real kiss, looking for his tongue. He let her try, they were in this same dance of hands and rapid breathings again. He felt her hand searching for his neck and shivered. Then he felt her take one of his hands and put it on her hip. He smiled to himself and moved his hand again to the point where he had made her moan. He did it so slowly, circling her hip, until with the heel of his hand grazed her belly. And a moan again. Only this time there was no separation, on the contrary, Shelagh pressed her mouth more to his and pressed her hand on his shoulder. He felt lucky so he climbed his hand and then turned it to her side, barely touching the profile of her breast. Another moan, louder this time. He pulled away slowly, and saw that she was not very convinced. He saw her blue eyes darker again, and he knew she desire him. God, he did not know how he would wait until the wedding.  
Slowly he moved closer to her mouth again to give her a soft kiss and then turned to her jaw and neck. He felt himself in the glory, he never ventured to go there and only he knew how much he wanted to savor her soft skin. He heard another moan and her hand on his head, urging him to stay there, as she threw her neck back and arched her back. His hand was now on her leg and climbed a few inches also taking the edge of her skirt, but not daring to do more. His other hand played with her hair. He barely bit her neck.  
“Patrick.”  
If he ever thought he was in heaven, to hear her say his name in that form, the most sensual form he had ever heard, simply made him believe dead. It was his name, sighed and mixed with a moan of the person he loved and desired most. He parted from her neck and returned to her mouth, and Shelagh tried to wrap her arm around his back in an attempt to move him closer to her. He felt her breasts against him and this time it was he who could not help a moan and then another when he felt her smile beneath his mouth. Evidently she liked him to respond to her in the same way. He climbed a few inches over her leg and heard a sigh again. He lowered his hand from her hair to her back and slowly found the edge of her blouse. He pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against hers.  
“Are you ok?” he asked breathlessly.  
“Yes. Very good” she said with a half smile.  
He took a deep breath, wanted to do something, but he knew that before he should ask her, because things were progressing a lot tonight and he did not want to frighten her again.  
“May I…?” he said with the edge of her blouse in his fingers. Shelagh only closed her eyes.  
“I want you to teach me more” he swallowed, did not expect an answer like that, just a "no" or a "yes" with little conviction. He felt her fingers tremble as they traveled slowly beneath the blouse. She gasped as his fingers found the bristling skin on her back. He approached and kissed her slowly, enjoying in the softest softness he had ever touched. He turned his mouth to her neck and encircled her waist and climbed his hand a little more because he did not want to touch the bra. It was what he wanted most but he knew that if he did it would bother her and worse, he could no longer control himself. She let out another low and long moan, an expression of pleasure that he never thought he would ever hear coming from her but that he had allowed himself to dream more than once. After hearing her chorus of gasps and moans he knew that until that night, Shelagh was repressed, because now he knew that any place where he touched her made her shudder. He moved his hand and pulled away.  
He smiled at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was flushed but with a bright smile as well as her eyes. He wondered how Shelagh doubted his desire to teach her, when it was a delight to show her every one of the ways to make her feel good and beautiful, and loved. Crossed his mind that in a short time he could teach her more than that, he could show her the places of her own body that would make her enjoy. He swallowed, not the right moment to think that.  
“Darling, I should take you home” he said to distract himself from his own thoughts and desires.  
“Yes, it´s time” she looked at her watch and agreed reluctantly.  
He took her hand and kissed her ring. Then he stood up and led her to the door.


	2. Teacher and student II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not a continuation of the previous chapter. It is totally different, but shares the same theme with the previous one. I really like the idea of Patrick teaching things to Shelagh, and I also like the idea of them starting when it was still forbidden.  
> It is definitely a five kettles!

A week passed from that kiss and it still burned in her hand. For her it was a week without sleep, a week of anguish, of not knowing what to do.

  
A thunder sounded in the distance and she knew she would never return to Nonnatus without getting completely wet. She rubbed her eyes and grabbed the bike. The last birth was too long and exhausting for the poor mother and for her. She began to pedal fast but the drops began to fall, like the thoughts she had kept hidden all day. She bit her lip to keep it from shaking, but the tears came just like the rain. She got off the bike and threw it against a wall, also throwing the anger inside her. She sat on the curbside, not caring that she got wet, just wanted to think alone, away from everyone.

  
“I hate you.” She began to repeat in a low voice “I hate you, I hate God, I hate everyone. I hate myself. I want to kill myself to end this.”  
The idea began to attract her. After all, no one would miss her. Being a nun and killing herself was perhaps the worst of sins, so her sisters would not suffer, she would be considered a vile sinner who would not deserve even a single pray. And he would not miss her either, once she heard Trixie, _“men get very fast another woman”_. However, she did not want to believe it. She did not want to think that she would leave him. She could leave everything, but not him. She loved him too much and it hurt too much. But her hatred was strong, too. Why did he kiss her on the hand? Why did not he kiss her properly? What did all this mean?

  
She was always the one of the solutions. She was the practice, the one who had the answers, the one who decided quickly and well. So now she must be that person. She stood up, grabbed the bike, and pedaled as fast as she could. When she arrived at his house she knocked and ignored her head telling her that this was a complete mistake.

  
“Good evening, Doctor” She said as he opened the door.  
“Sister! What…? Enter, please, you are soaked. Has something happened?”  
She came in and took off her coat, which was dripping with water.  
“Has something happened?” He repeated.  
“No. Yes. Actually…I don´t come for a case.”  
He gave her a look that tried to understand what was happening.  
She could remember that it was eight o'clock in the evening, it was raining torrentially, it was chilling, and suddenly she came saying only confusing things. She took all the courage she could, and dodging his eyes, she spoke.  
“I´m coming for me.”  
He opened his mouth and then closed it, still giving her the same look of confusion.  
“Are you feeling unwell?”  
“It´s…My body doesn´t hurt, my soul hurts.”

  
She bit her lip again. Damn it, why did she cry before? When she cried once, then she could not stop at anything silly. Now she felt the tears invade her eyes, but she took a deep breath to keep them from leaving, despite the painful knot in her throat.  
He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but he stopped. She did not dare look at him or lift her head, so she did not know or want to know how he was looking at her. Surely with that tender look that made her tremble.

  
“You came because the other day.”  
He said it as a sure statement but his voice trembled, and she nodded several times.  
“Enter.” He said in a whisper.  
“No, I´d better go. Timothy sure is busy and so are you, and I should go back. I don´t know why I'm here, I'm sorry. I think you should refer me to a psychiatrist because I'm not right in the head lately.” She tried to sound funny, but she could not even smile.  
“Tim is not here, he´s been with his grandmother since yesterday. Enter.”  
"No, I must go now..."  
“Please.” His voice had the same tone she heard a week ago in the kitchen when he told her all of this was unforgivable. That tone of voice played many times in her ears, he sounded so hurt...Like now. She raised her eyes, and to her misfortune, his look was hurt. She could not refuse, not this time. She swallowed hard and nodded.  
“Okay, but just one moment.”  
"I´ll make you some tea."  
“Please, don´t.”  
“You´re shivering with cold, you need it.”

  
She was not shivering with cold, that was clear to her, but she did not say anything. She stood in the living room, not wanting to look anywhere but the floor. She felt that she invaded this place, a place that before belonged to another woman and that perhaps would soon belong to another, and not her. The thought filled her with rage and desire to escape, but he returned immediately.  
“Come on, put this on.” Before she could react, she was wrapped in a blanket and he led her to the sofa. “I'll put the heat on and I'll bring you the tea.”  
“I don`t need it, I´ll leave...”

  
But he was gone. She had no choice but to look at this small messy space, full of scattered papers, some toys, books and many photos. Luckily her glasses were dirty and she could not see them well.  
He returned with a cup of tea he handed her and she balanced in her hands to not overturn it with her trembling. If she was sincere, her hands did not shake from the cold of wet clothes, but because he had sat down beside her, and felt his gaze on her. And besides, why lie? He had his sleeves rolled up and she could see closely his arms that had long made her loosen her knees with just imagining for a second what it would be like to be among them.  
She stared at the tea, though she could not concentrate well, and more when she saw him coming closer and pointing at her hand.

  
“What do you have in your hand?”  
“Nothing.” She said quickly, putting the tea cup on the table.  
“It´s your wounded hand. Has not it healed yet?”  
“Yes, but it´s nothing...” He took her hand and looked at it. She swallowed. Her hand was as hurt as the first day, or more.  
“Why is this so? I suppose you aren´t one of those nuns who get hurt, are you?”  
She pulled her hand out quickly and tugged at the sleeve of her habit to hide it.  
“If I am, you should not care, Doctor.”  
"Of course I care, because are you.”  
“Stop saying that!” Suddenly the anger and bitterness she tried to hide, they wanted to leave. “Stop doing that, treating me like I´m special, I´m not, I should not be for you. Leave me alone. If you don´t let me, I´ll kill myself.”

  
She stood up and threw the blanket on the couch, ready to leave. He reached her hand again with strength and she complained of the pain. He immediately released her.

  
“I´m sorry. I´m sorry for everything, please forgive me.”

  
His eyes were not sad, they were desperate and that broke her heart. All her inexplicable anger evaporated and she only felt love for this man she could not get out of her mind.

  
“I forgive you. I should not do it, but yes, I forgive you, I can´t get angry with you. I just want you to stop this.”  
“Then why are you here?”

  
This time she could not help the tears so she lowered her head so he would not see them.  
“It was just to tell you this, to tell you to leave me. Please.” She lifted her head, allowing herself to look him in the eyes for the first time without guilt. “I want this so badly, but I can´t.”

  
She felt his arms around her, and let him do it. She knew he would not leave her alone, because she did not want him to do it. She clutched at him for a moment, clenching her fists in her sweater as if that were a lifeline, and then she pulled away.

  
“I have to go.” She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her healthy hand. He took her glasses and put them in the pocket of his shirt, knowing that without that she could not leave.

  
“No, please no. Even if it promises me that you will not kill yourself or do this.” He took her hand gently.  
“I didn´t do anything. I only dug my nails when I think of you, but it doesn´t work.”

  
He looked at her injured hand, still raw. She knew he did not believe her, she had not only been nailing her nails but brushing hard with soap, alcohol, and what she found, as if that could erase a stain that did not exist. It only made her ache more, that the burning sometimes did not allow her to work, and that the pain reminded her again and again the same scene, now repeated because he was drawing the wound with his fingers and he brought her hand to his lips. He kissed her in the same way, soft, barely a sigh. This time she did not take it back, just looked at him feeling the world stop. His eyes were closed and when he opened them, he looked at her with the same adoration he always looked at her, even if they were talking about stupid lamps.

  
“Do it again.” She asked, whispering, for a moment she wanted to be selfish and think about her, no matter the guilt and convictions her mind screamed at her. He looked at her in surprise, but he did it, and then he did it again, and then he kissed the veins of her pale wrist, and she wanted to cry when he stopped, because the soft touch of his lips and his warm breath filled her with something inexplicable and just wanted to respond him doing one thing.  
She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to do it in desperation, so she reached out to touch his cheek and came closer, but stopped at the last moment.

  
“Do it.” He said, imitating her request. “Do it before you repent.”  
In the back of her mind something told her that it was the temptation, she should not give in. But she was tired of resisting, she wanted her selfish moment to last a little longer. The damage was already done, and she would have years of recrimination ahead of her, so a couple of seconds more before she ran away would be nothing. He stroked her cheek, grabbed her chin and looked for her mouth, but she parted, because when she thought she could be rebellious and breaking the rules, she knew she was a fool. A silly girl standing here, in the middle of his room, wanting to do something she did not know how to do.

  
“I don´t know how to do it.” To say it was to admit it and filled her with more anguish. _“You're a fool,”_ she told herself, _“you're a fool to believe that you could be like other girls, you thought this was for you, you thought he was for you.”_ Tears again pricked so she took a breath and lowered her eyes. “This is not right, I must go, Doctor.”  
“I'm Patrick, sister.” He said in a whisper. She realized that one of his hands was gripping her wrist and squeezing it tightly.  
“Please don´t call me that.” She said squeezing her eyelids. “I'm Shelagh. And I have to go.”

  
But the grip on her wrist did not budge, and she saw him approaching and felt his other hand lift her chin and suddenly his lips were on hers. Something like electricity ran through her body, something she never knew before, something she never dreamed in the dreams she had been trying to avoid. She felt his lips move over hers and simply followed him.

  
Her nerves blossomed again, her mind still repeating that she was a fool who knew nothing and stopped this now. She pulled away and looked at him. She could tell he was surprised to break the contact and she could also see that he was sorry.  
She wondered when she learned to read his look so well. And then she replied to herself: for a long time. She had long time looked at him, loved him, suffered him.

  
“If you don´t know I can teach you.”

  
Oh God, that was the last thing she expected to hear. Somehow he could also read what was happening to her, and he knew that she could escape from one moment to the next, and he was trying to convince her to stay, telling her something like that, that she could not refuse, because she wanted to continue kissing him, she wanted to learn how to do it, she wanted to know what he liked. And if she clouded all her thoughts, she could say she wanted to know how to please him.  
It was now or never.

  
She nodded looking to his eyes, and he smiled. He cradled her face in his hands and looked at her for a few seconds.

  
“You have the most beautiful eyes I´ve ever seen.”

  
She smiled, knowing she would be more than blushing, not knowing how to respond to words like those that no one ever told her. He smiled more, and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs.

  
“Just follow me. And follow yourself.”

  
She frowned, not understanding the last sentence, but before she could ask, he was kissing her again. The pressure on her lips was soft and she stood on tiptoes to reach him better. She felt him smile under her mouth and he opened his mouth and with his lips took her lower lip. A sigh escaped from her lungs, this was unexpected and incredibly delicious. She opened her mouth, wanting to do the same but with great fear. She heard a sigh from him and knew that she had not done it so badly.

  
They barely parted and he kissed her again, and she felt his tongue over the seam of her mouth and although that surprised her, she instinctively let him in. Her legs seemed to be jelly, unable to hold her and she immediately felt him leave only one hand on her face while the other traveled to her waist, holding her against his body.

  
She barely parted, overwhelmed by everything she was feeling: his tongue, her legs weak, his hand on her waist that seemed to burn, her whole body pressed against his.

  
“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly, and she nodded, unable to find any sounds in her throat.

  
She raised her hands, which so far did not know what to do, and put them on his forearms. A wave of heat ran through her body, she was doing what she wanted in a long time. Every time in some complicated situation she saw him winding the sleeves of the shirt, her heart missed a beat. Now she not only knew the feeling of being in his arms, but she could also touch them. She ran her fingertips, feeling them warm and rough because his hair.

  
“I like your arms.” She encouraged herself to say without looking at him. She heard him giggle.  
“I already knew that.” She looked up in surprise and he laughed a little more. “I know very well when you look at me.”

  
Her cheeks were surely the color of blood, she could bet. She did not know that it was so noticeable, or that Patrick could catch her gaze on him.

  
She ran her hands up to his shoulders, then to his neck, and he closed his eyes, pleased. He looked relaxed, perfect for her. She could have this man if she decided it, but there was too much between them. Sadness began to take hold of her and she not want to give place for that feeling, so she stood on tiptoe again and joined her lips with his. She was hungry of him, she wanted to have him even if only for this moment. Her hands tangled in his hair and she heard him sigh again. At last she understood his phrase of _“follow yourself”_ because she was acting by pure instinct opening her mouth, encouraging her to come out to meet him.

  
She was feeling too many things she never thought she could feel with a kiss. In fact she did not know that a kiss could be like this. His mouth tasted like coffee, cigarettes and something sweet, something that was him, this was the taste of love. She felt his two hands now wandering her back, sticking her more against him, and she anchored one of her hands to his shoulder, also to stick him more against her.

  
They separated when the air was missing, and also when she knew this was the worst mistake of her life, because now that she tasted him, she knew she could never stop wanting to kiss him.

  
“Did...did I do it right?” She asked shyly, nervously.  
“More than good.” He answered and she smiled broadly. He smiled as well, taking her face in his callous, warm hands. “God, you´re terribly lovely”

  
She laughed and he kissed her gently. But now that she had learned, she wanted to continue practicing even for a few moments, before her time in paradise was over. So she pulled her mouth closer to his, wanting to savor it for one last time. She felt his hands on her waist and his kiss became demanding, but she followed him, because she had already learned how. Before she became aware of what she was doing, her hand was climbing between his vest and his shirt, feeling the muscles of his back, and her body soaked with water was suddenly soaked in a heat that asked for more. More, though she thought it was not humanly possible to ask for more than this, even though she knew it was not right.

  
She pulled away and took off her wimple and the cap, and her hair fell, wet and tangled. He looked at her in amazement, with one trembling hand he took one of the strands, but his eyes were on hers, full of something she could not decipher.

  
“You´re beautiful” He said in a whisper. “You´re beautiful” He repeated.

  
She trembled at the sight of his gaze, filled with love. He wanted her, she knew it, and she loved him. She moved closer and kissed him again, now feeling his hands in her hair, her hair that for years did not see anyone but her in the reflection of the mirror. He parted from her mouth and she thought he would tell her something, but no, now his mouth was on her neck and she let out a gasp.

  
“Do you like this?” She heard him and she nodded, feeling him brushed her hair away from her neck and kiss her again there.

  
She closed her eyes, the sensation was new and involuntarily arched more her back against him, so that he kissed her better. She felt him smile on her skin. When she felt his lips suck softly at the lobe of her ear, a moan escaped her mouth and she abruptly separated, looking at him with heavy breathing. To hear herself let go of such an expression of pleasure made her fall to Earth again.

  
“I´m sorry.” She apologized, trying to swallow but her throat was dry. Patrick stroked her cheek with sweetness. “I don´t know...I...I have to go. It´s not right, it´s not right.”

  
She looked with her eyes where her wimple fell to avoid looking at him. But she felt his hands on her shoulders.

  
“Shelagh, don´t.”

  
It was ten years that nobody said her real name. Ten years she was someone else. Now she heard it in his voice and it seemed as if she were the person she had once been, the person hiding beneath this heavy habit that cornered her more and more and away from everything she wanted.

  
_Follow yourself_ the words reverberated in her ears again, as if he were repeating them to her. She began to lack air when she made a decision that she no longer wanted to meditate on and pulled her guimpe tightly, but the air lacked even more. She saw the confusion in his eyes and his hands trying to stop hers.

  
“What do you do?” He whispered, but she slipped out of her hands and let fall her guimpe.  
“I´m a bold girl. Sometimes.” She was frightened by her own words, but they were already spoken. She took a breath and looked into his eyes. “I want to be now.”  
“But…”  
She stopped him with a kiss. Her hands searched his neck, tried to loosen his tie, but he pulled her apart. His eyes were strange, he seemed angry, or worried.

  
“I love you, Patrick.” She said, opening her heart for the first time. She cupped his face in her hands, so that he could see in her eyes that she was telling him the truth. “I'm tired of denying it. Please help me.”

  
She saw him squeezing his lips, closing his eyes, taking an irregular breath and looking at her again, saying nothing.

  
“Please.” She hated to beg, but if she had to convince him, she would beg.  
“Tell me how you want me to help you.” He said at last, and she just smiled.  
“I don´t want to die without doing it. I don´t want to die without knowing what it is to be with you, what is to love you.”  
“Shelagh, you can´t, we can´t…”  
“Just teach me.” She interrupted him with a quick kiss. “Show me how to do it. Please, Patrick. Then we see how we continue, but today I want to learn everything from you, I want you to know how much I love you, I don´t care about everything else anymore.”  
“Oh God, Shelagh.” He kissed her hard, every tongue and teeth, and if she still had any trace of guilt, she forgot. She wanted to be Shelagh for a while, she wanted them to be just Shelagh and Patrick, and the world would end if it wanted to.  
“Are you going to teach me?” She said as she parted, staring at him through her lashes.  
“Stop flirting.” He laughed.  
“Is that flirting? I didn´t know it.” She looked at him in the same way and laughed with him, who gave her a soft kiss.  
“I'm delighted to show you everything you want, my love.” He said, parting from her mouth and she smiled in rapture, happy that he would do it and hear a my love dedicated to her.

  
She kissed him and her hands flew to his neck, desperate to undo his tie but she separated angry, when she could not make it. He laughed and untied his tie with one hand.

  
“Stop being so self-sufficient.” She complained, trying to sound serious.

  
He laughed again, kissed her gently on the cheek, and then returned to her neck. The air escaped her lungs, now she knew how much she liked him to do that to her. With trembling hands she fumbled for the buttons of his vest and soon passed them by his shoulders to remove it. She still felt the voices of guilt, she was undressing a man, but Patrick´s mouth on her neck was managing to turn them off very well. She felt as if he were going to devour her and she loved that. She separated from him, and began to fight to remove the scapular. It was heavy with wetness and he helped her. When she was to start with the row of buttons of the habit, he stopped her.

  
“I want to do this.” He said, and she felt that her senses did not respond. He looked at her in a way that almost frightened her.

  
“Shh…stay calm.” He whispered, touching her mouth, kissing her slowly. He unzipped the buttons one by one, kissing every inch of skin that was revealed to him.

  
Fear gave way again to her feeling of wanting more. Again she felt his mouth on her neck, then down to the hem of her slip´s neckline.  
She closed her eyes, brought a hand to his head, urging him to stay there. She felt him smile and then he straightened to help her remove the habit.

  
When she was just with the slip in front of him, she began to tremble again. Suddenly she felt very embarrassed, she felt ugly, she wanted to get her clothes together and run off and never set foot in Poplar again. She was not pretty like the other women, she did not have the body they had.

  
He lifted her chin, to meet her eyes. His gaze was sweet, full of love. She bit her lip so she would not cry like a child.

  
“You´re beautiful.” He said and she shook her head, trying to look at the ground. He took her face, forced her to look at him, tracing her lips with a thumb, barely touching them. “You´re perfect.”

  
He kissed her gently, very slowly, almost reverently. Now she could feel his hands everywhere, through the thin fabric of the slip.  
Her confidence began to grow in a desperation of want to touch him as he was touching her. She started with the buttons on his shirt, but her fingers were shaking too. She gave the shirt a pull and a button flew off.

  
“You´ll have to sew that.” He said, pulling away and looking at her with a funny grin.  
“Never mind, I´ve done it before.”  
Patrick raised an eyebrow and she smiled.  
“I sew a button on your white coat. It´s been a while.”  
“Were you?” He stroked her cheek and she nodded. “You´ll never stop surprising me.”

  
She felt his lips on hers again, soft, slow, and then a hand tangled in her waist and suddenly her feet were no longer on the ground and she let out a squeal, she was in his arms, in the air, with one of his hands on her waist and the other under her knees. Suddenly she was aware of that, she never ever thought of the back of her knees, until today, surrounded by her strong and sure arm. In fact, she never thought about most of the parts of her body that she was now feeling.

  
She buried her face in his neck, feeling his smell of cigarettes, shaving cream, and something that was definitely Patrick. She kissed him there and he paused for a moment before climbing the stairs. She kissed him again and he sighed, closing his eyes.

  
“You weigh nothing!” He said and she laughed, knowing he was trying to be funny not to pay attention to her kisses. So she kissed him again on the neck. “Don´t do that.”  
“Why?”  
“Because it´s too good.”

  
She laughed. They entered the bedroom and he set her gently on the bed. She immediately shrugged to reach for her shoes and untie them and looked up, although she could not see much of the bedroom, only it was a mess like the whole house and that made her more laugh. She will come here to put order and make his life better. Now she was beginning to believe it.  
Patrick sat on the edge of the bed, kissing her hard and she felt his fingers caressing each of her legs in the hem of her stockings, and then began to lower them quickly. Then he caressed her legs slowly, from knee to thigh, she bit her lip in an attempt to avoid trembling.

  
“You can do it, do you know?”  
She looked at him with confusion.  
“What?”  
“What you want to do. Stop biting.” He smiled at her and again his fingers traveled down her legs. She obeyed him and did not bite and a gasp came from her lips. He looked at her wickedly and did it again, and again a gasp. She reached for his chest and began to slide the shirt off her shoulders.

  
“Your glasses are in the pocket.” He warned. She shrugged, not caring before throwing the shirt to the floor.  
“We´ll order others to the National Service tomorrow.”

  
Patrick laughed and she marveled that she could make him laugh. She could be her, say the things that always occurred to her and shut up, and also make him laugh. She caressed his chest, the hair that appeared through the neckline of the tank top, and that made him look so manly. And tonight, he was only for her.

  
She reached for the hem of the tank top and pulled it up, and her hands seemed to find comfort as they began to caress his chest. She watched him close his eyes so she sat down to kiss him and keep touching him. He let out a grunt and she felt his hands on her sides, pulling on her slip. She helped him in his task of taking it off and before she could react, he was again biting her neck, pushing her to the bed, feeling his mouth near her breasts.

  
She was already too overwhelmed by everything, to be in his bed, to caress him as she wanted, to feel his skin against hers.  
She felt one of his hands run down her back, unbutton her bra without any impediment and she swallowed, in an instant of doubt that faded when his mouth took one of her nipples while one of his hands covered the other. She was unable to seal her lips and avoid expressing the wave of pleasure that was running through her body. His mouth went to the other breast, and his hand traveled lower, to her abdomen, and then there. God, his hand was there, where she did not even dare to think. A drowned scream escaped from her mouth.

  
He lifted his head, looking at her with a smile and she tried to take a breath, trying to find time to understand what was going on, but he did not wait for her because she felt one of his fingers pressing and something like an electric current that shook her and made her back arch. To her disgrace, he did it again and she heard herself moaning.  
Then she felt his lips on her abdomen, her navel, and all the strange sensation gave way to a chuckle.

  
“What´s up?” He said, surprised.  
“It tickles me there.” She laughed again.  
“Good to know, for next time.”

  
She dropped her head on the pillow, ecstatic with his statement.  
She saw his hands go to the edge of her panties and looked at her. Suddenly everything fell on her, she was afraid, guilty, ashamed, but she nodded, giving her permission. He removed them quickly as if he had been doing this for a long time. She saw him stand back a little, look at her, and all the guilt disappeared. He looked at her as if he were looking at a work of art, as if he were worshiping her, as if she were the most perfect thing he had ever seen.

  
“Patrick.” She said, feeling stranger than ever, and also more beloved.  
“Shelagh, you´re like an angel...”

  
He went to her mouth and kissed her slowly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, too invaded by tenderness. The kiss was slow, she felt how without taking his lips off, Patrick climbed on the bed next to her and put his arms around her.  
They separated and she rested her head on his strong chest, for the first time surrounded by security and protection. He answered her with a kiss in the matted hair, and one of his hands caressed her back.

  
“I love you, Shelagh.”

  
She pressed her lips to his chest, making sure this was not a dream and she was actually hearing it. She heard no guilt, no voice protesting, only his words. This was perfect, it was what had to happen.  
She kissed him softly on the mouth, running her hands in his back and her hair. She felt the soft touch of his hands in her breasts, her back, her thigh, and she pressed closer to his body. He broke the kiss, and she saw a strange look.

  
“What´s up?”  
“I´d like to show you something.”  
She nodded several times.  
“Yes, please, whatever you want.”

  
Smiling, he made her lie on her back. He kissed her slowly, then passed to her neck, again to her breasts, and again made her laugh at her navel. Without warning she felt his fingers dangerously close to her pubis, and her legs barely opened, wanting to feel them again. He pleased her and she let out a moan. It was hardly a touch that gave way to a deeper touch, which she did not expect.  
“Patrick!” She cried out as she felt it and opened her eyes. She saw him smile.

  
“I like the way you pronounce my name.” She felt him pressing there again. She arched, squeezing her eyelids, her hips knew what to do because they searched his hand to feel it, but it was gone.

  
She opened her eyes, trying to figure what he was doing, but without giving her time, she felt more, more, as if lightning struck her, forcing her to close her eyes and squirm. She opened her eyes and sat up, worried, when she thought she knew what was happening: his mouth. She was out of breath.  
“Patrick, what…?”

  
But she could not continue, a surge of heat and pleasure pierced her and she just dropped into the bed, surrendered to him, and clenched her fingers in the sheets. She heard that she had become a chorus of gasps and moans and that her body wanted more and was asking out loud.

  
Until something too strong pierced her. Suddenly she felt that everything was flying, or she was flying, and her eyes turned black and she thought for a moment that she was dying of pure pleasure.

  
When she seemed to regain consciousness, she stared at the ceiling, searching for air, hearing the blood in her ears.  
She saw him approaching and kissing her gently, felt her own taste and frowned because she did not like it. She pulled away from him, her hands on his shoulders. He looked at her with a painted smile on his face.

  
“What...what happened?” It was the only thing she could articulate, she still felt strange and weak.  
“It was good, wasn´t it?”

  
She looked at him incredulously, he seemed to laugh in her face when she still could not put her thoughts in order.

  
“Patrick, what was that?” She repeated, serious.  
“That, my love,” He said, giving her short kisses between words, “was, I suppose, the first orgasm of your life.”  
“What?” She frowned. “I´ve never heard of it.”  
She saw him smile tenderly as he tucked strands of her hair on the pillow.  
“I notice it.” He laughed. “Nobody says it, it seems to be a forbidden word for women.”

  
She tried to remember. While she studied, they only saw the mechanics of the origin of a baby and only because she would be a midwife. No one else spoke of anything else. She had definitely learned something new today.

  
When her breathing seemed regular, she kissed him. She still felt dizzy but wanted more, she wanted to do it at last. He hugged her, kissing her deeply, and she gave him place between her legs. He pulled back a little, studying her face.

  
“Shelagh, are you sure?”  
“I´m scared. I...I don´t know...but I want to. Just show me how.”

  
Patrick took her injured hand and carried it to his trousers. Trembling, she unzipped her belt and lowered the zipper. She looked into his eyes and he carried her hand down and she was gaping. She never imagined this, could not believe she was touching him. He grunted and she touched harder, pressing, but he took her hand.

  
“Is not that right?” She asked with her nerves filling her.  
“It´s very good, my love, but if you keep learning like this we will not be able to continue.”  
Her nerves left her and she smiled broadly, and reached out to touch him again. She had this man and had the power to make him feel that way.

  
“God, Shelagh.” He complained, tightening his eyelids, and she smiled more. She wanted to do it again but he tangled his fingers in her hand, pushing it away and placing it on the pillow.

  
“Can I do it? I mean...what you did to me. There.”  
She saw him close his eyes in a moan and shook his head. She felt triumphant just to see him like this before her seemingly innocent question.

  
“No, love, it will be for another time.”

  
He released her hand to remove his trousers and she put her hand to his cheek to lower his head and kissed it, and wrapped an arm around his back to get closer. Feeling how her breasts brushed his skin was the glory. Patrick pulled away a little to remove his boxer and she looked away. He smiled wickedly, kissing her again. Then he pulled away, this time looking at her seriously. She looked at him, fear blooming again.

  
“I´ll go slowly, ok? Just tell me if it hurts. Everything will be all right, my love.”  
She nodded, suddenly feeling very young for this. He kissed her gently.  
“Don´t be afraid, Shelagh.”

  
The next thing she felt was that, at last, he was coming in. Her dream was fulfilled but it hurt so he stopped.

  
“No, Shelagh, no, I´ll hurt you.” He said, trying to move back. She pressed a hand in his back.

  
“Don´t, I want you to continue. Don´t worry, I want to do it. We have to do it.” She said taking his face in her hands. He continued slowly, and despite the pain inside her, she forced her body to accept him.

  
“Look into my eyes.” She heard him say, and realized that she was squeezing them in pain. Seeing his gaze, she forgot the pain, felt her heart melt from all the love and concern she saw there. The fire in his gaze fanned the flames of her inner fire again, and traced her hands down his shoulders and his strong arms that had already done more than just hold her as she dreamed.

  
“Patrick.” She whispered in his ear, when she felt that in the midst of discomfort, she felt pleasure again. He moaned her name in response and soon she felt something strange inside that made her gasp before he fell on her, and heard his heavy breathing in her ear.

  
He tried to lie down beside her, but she held him back.

  
“I want to have you some more time.” She explained in a slightly broken voice. He leaned on one elbow to look at her.  
“I don´t want to crush you, you´re very tiny, darling.”  
She shook her head, eyes closed.  
“Shelagh, you´re crying.”  
“No, well, yes. It was...beautiful. Patrick this is beautiful.”

  
He smiled at her and pulled back slowly. She only complained. He lay down beside her and with one hand on her waist pulled her to him. He wiped a rebellious tear from her cheek.  
“I love you.” She said smiling and another tear fell.  
“I love you too. Stay tonight, please.”  
“I can´t, they´re waiting for me. They´ll call the police if I don´t come back soon.”

  
She watched him nod sadly before kissing him again on his already swollen lips. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking for her clothes with her eyes.  
*******  
A short time later, they arrived at Nonnatus. He took her with his car, on the trip they put together the lie they would say, something about torrential rain, peaked wheels and the doctor finding her on the road and carrying her.

  
He opened the door and she went out, Trixie was waiting outside, standing in the doorway, shouting for her to hurry inside.

  
“Goodbye, Doctor.” She greeted him, a mask of professionalism on her face.  
“Bye.” He said in the same way, and then approaching her ear. “I´m waiting for you for the next lesson, Sister.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This was a songfic when I wrote it in Spanish but the song in English is not the same. Anyway, if you want to listen the song, the name is “Jugo de Luna” (Moon´s Juice) of Gustavo Cerati. Check it, it is sooo good.  
> And this one shot is an M, so, be careful!

Never, in his deepest dreams, he imagined this.

During the day he could avoid it but at night his mind betrayed him and he could not resist being carried away by her. In the dreams, he always saw her asleep next to him, with her hair that he imagined would be like that, with her pale skin and her eyes closed and quiet, sleeping happy to be with him. Sometimes those dreams took another direction to which he could not refuse to go and he kissed her everywhere and she whispered his name until at last he woke up only to feel more sad and lonely than ever.

No, none of this could be compared to this. His imagination had been too short. She looked like a goddess worshiped by the moon that came in through the window, naked at his side and exhausted after a day of laughter and walks on the beach and an early night of kisses and more.

He swallowed, trying not to be tempted to touch her for fear it was another of his dreams and she would disappear. It had only been two days since the wedding, but he knew he would not have enough time to believe it and get used to the idea of her here with him.

Finally he took a breath and extended one of his fingers, barely touched her shoulder and she complained like a kitten, snuggling closer to him. He smiled relieved, she was there, she was real. He had a lump in his throat probably from emotion. How did this divine creature notice him? He placed his lips on her forehead and kissed her gently so as not to wake her up, and with one hand he tried to find the sheet to cover her as he felt rise the tiny hair in her arms with cold.

“Patrick?” she said sleepily, barely opening her eyes.                    

“I'm going to cover you, keep sleeping, honey” he sat up slightly, trying to see in the gloom but felt one of her hands taking his.

“Don’t go, please.”

“I'm not leaving you, I'm just looking for the sheet.”

“I'm not cold, come” her insistent hand on his drew him to her and she hugged him, sighing with pleasure. He gave in and kissed her on the cheek, his hands curled around her thin waist and she barely moaned along with a yawn. She seemed to relax again and fall asleep, except for one of her hands that slowly caressed his chest.

Suddenly the images of his dreams caught him. They only appeared without previous warning and the breathing was interspersed. If there was something he wanted to do with her, it was that, but he was not sure that she wanted to, at least not for the moment. Although Shelagh had shown him that she could be very shy in front of everyone but very bold when they were alone, and that she was brave and did not have a shred of fear with him in their first night, he knew that she was not used to certain things, and that most likely, she would have no idea of them. Everything she did in those two days was thanks to her woman's instinct, but he knew that she had no education about sex. And that was something that excited him a lot.

He would be patient all his life if necessary, because that way he could teach her absolutely everything, not to get more pleasure from her, but so that she would learn everything she was able to enjoy with her own body.

He was too lost in his ramblings, so he did not feel the small, sleepy kisses she was giving him in the neck. He separated, her eyes were no longer covered by fatigue, but were bright and fevered. He kissed her gently and felt her hands roam his shoulders, pulling him closer to her.

“Shelagh,” he said barely separating, “I want to show you something.”

She looked at him with disappointment and he could not help but laugh.

“What I want to show you is related to this.”

Her face changed with a smile and a nod.

“Show me then.”

He had to suppress a moan at that simple answer, because that meant that she was willing to always learn, whatever he wanted to teach her.

“If you don’t  like it, you have to say the magic word.”

She giggled and nodded again.

“Do you remember the magic word?”

Shelagh rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“Yes, I remember it: Stop.”

“I wanted to make sure you remembered it, because I didn’t  hear you use that word in these days.”

She laughed again, covered her face with her hands in an attempt to hide her embarrassment and he could not help laughing too, before removing her hands and kissing her.

“Now, Mrs Turner, just relax.”

“But what should I do?”

“Nothing, I already told you, relax.”

She looked at him raising an eyebrow and he kissed her again. She immediately wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, and he felt one of her legs hook into one of his hips.

“No, no,” he said, “low that leg.”

“But…?”

“I told you, Shelagh, relax.”

It hurt a bit to see her face worried, but she nodded again and then her concern was erased when he kissed her languidly again. He kissed her neck and then went to the infallible place he knew made her relax, her breasts. When he kissed one of them, the worry had already left her face and she was only letting out small sighs. He smiled against her skin, savoring it and wanting to stay there forever, but he would have time for that. He lowered his mouth to her belly and blew in there to tickle her. She giggled and twisted and he kissed her on the navel again.

He went down just a few inches, leaving small kisses, and stopped at the line of hair that covered her. He raised his eyes to see her, she was relaxed as he had asked, but her thighs were closed and they were rubbing just unconsciously. With that simple gesture he knew that she was wanting this, because she knew it. He had touched her there many times with his fingers, until now it was the only way in which she could reach the climax because she still felt some pain and discomfort to do it with him. It seemed logical to him that she was ready for his fingers, but this time he wanted to give her something else.

He stroked her legs with just the tips and took her knees and separated them slowly, noticing that she was stiffening. He immediately went down to his navel.

“Shh, be quiet darling” he kissed her once more there and she smiled at him confidently.

He took one of her legs and went to the inside of the thigh to deposit a small kiss there while stroking the inside of her knees with his thumbs. She let out a groan and looked at her worriedly.

“Did I hurt you?”

She only responded by shaking her head, pressing her lips together. He repeated the kiss on the other thigh and this time he knew that she was not complaining of pain, because her hips, pushed towards him, telling him otherwise. He saw her chest rise and fall heavily and saw her open her eyes. He felt his heart melting at the look of innocence and concern he saw there.

“What are you going to do?” she said with a thin voice.

“I just want to try, honey. You already know what you have to tell me if you don’t like it.”

He decided to act fast, before she got more scared. He kissed the inside of her other thigh and heard a little moan again and then decided to jump in there, in her clit,  to kiss it  the same way he kissed her on her mouth. It was just a small kiss but she was startled, almost fully incorporated. He looked at her and without saying anything he did it again. She let out a small, high-pitched whine, tried to reach for him with her hand, but he did it again this time using his tongue as well and saw that she was giving up trying to reach him to fall on the bed. He repeated the same thing as one of the first times he kissed her, running his tongue over the seam of her lips, searching for her clit again. She twisted, panting, clinging with one hand to one of the bars of the bed and the other to the sheet.

He did it again but decided to go further, reaching with his tongue to her entrance, where he entered and left slowly. She responded with a choked moan in which she tried to say his name and he smiled because he would never get tired of hearing her call him that way.

“Shelagh, look at me” he asked, she shook her head, suppressing a moan when she felt his breath there.

“Just look at me, try not to close your eyes.”

She opened them slowly and he tasted her again, sucking hard and licking gently and entering again and again as he clutched his hands to her hips as they moved to meet his mouth. He smiled when he saw her trying to keep her eyes fixed on him, knowing that seeing him doing it was perhaps the most exciting thing for her. Her hips began to move faster, asking for more and he followed them, proud to pluck the name of God from her without praying.

He put one of his hands on one of the legs so that she would not close them around him and the other on her bottom to lift her and bring her closer to his mouth.  He felt desperate to taste more of her knowing that all the water in the world could finish that he would not mind if he could keep drinking from her.

With a last spasm and his name choked on the lips, she collapsed against the pillows. He did not want to miss out on this taste that he never thought would be so sweet and delicious, so he licked just a couple more times, while she twisted in agitation. Then he stood looking at her, with his head resting on her belly, with a certain masculine pride to make this in the most desirable woman in the world. Shelagh shone in the moonlight, and Patrick knew he had tasted for the first time, true Moon´s juice.

She opened her eyes and tangled her fingers in his head, pulling him with a weak movement. He lay next to her, ignoring his erection because now she needed something like comfort and wrapped her in his arms. He stroked her back slowly, until he heard her breathing return to normal. He separated to look at her, her eyes shone more than ever, perhaps because of a few small tears that danced on her eyelashes.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, startled, and she shook her head, hugging him again.

“No, I'm just very happy. Will you do it again?”

He smiled in her hair, hugging her closer to him.

“All the times you want, my love.”

 

 


End file.
